


The Landslide

by Katiebug445



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Abusive Parent, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, More additional tags to be added, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, alcoholic parent, implied alcoholism, marco bodt/original male character - Freeform, side Reiner/Bertholdt - Freeform, side eren/mikasa - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:53:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29234079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katiebug445/pseuds/Katiebug445
Summary: Jean and Armin have been best friends since they were little kids. They spend every day together playing sports or doing whatever else they can to chase away the boredom of suburban life. Jean dreams of getting out, Armin has never wanted to live anywhere else and has hoped against hope to change Jean's mind so he doesn't have to say goodbye to the boy he's fallen in love with. After a moment's hesitation leaves them both feeling awkward around each other and worried that their feelings are too obvious, Jean starts dating a girl from school and leaves Armin behind without so much as a goodbye.Six years later, an unexpected turn of events pushes the boys back together, but it's not the happy reunion Jean hoped for. The choices of the past have resulted in hurt in the future, and he soon realizes how much of it Armin has carried with him through the years so he didn't have to fully say goodbye.
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Jean Kirstein, Sasha Blouse/Connie Springer
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But you're untouchable, burning brighter than the sun/Now that you're close I feel like coming undone." - Taylor Swift

**2012**

Days like this were always some of Armin’s favorites. Days when he and Jean could just sit outside in the summer sun with popsicles staining their tongues, sweat dripping down the sides of their faces, and the world feeling like it was right. Armin loved summer, and the fact that he got to spend it with his best friend made him love it that much more. 

The cool concrete of Jean’s small porch felt good on his back as they took a break from their game, the basketball sitting discarded in the middle of the yard, the slight breeze still blowing the net of the hoop attached to Jean’s carport. Armin was sweating, panting, beyond exhausted and a bit out of practice after the long winter that cut into their normal game time. 

It didn’t seem to bother Jean much, though, and Armin guessed he’d been out in the weather, despite how cold it was, wanting to make sure he gave Eren a run for his money when the time came for their actual games. He couldn’t wait, if he were honest. He loved the summer basketball games down at the school, when Jean would always pick him first to be on his team and give him that confident smile that he reserved only for him. 

The smile that Armin always thought about when he was alone up in his room, when it was safe to blush and let his heart beat like crazy over as he replayed it again and again.

They’d been a team for as long as he could remember. Since they’d become friends, and since Eren and Jean had started their insane rivalry over basketball that resulted in them almost causing the school’s team to lose every game because they couldn’t stop trying to mess the other up long enough to focus. Armin thought Jean picked him out of spite the first few times, but after awhile, it had become just because they worked so incredibly well together that Jean couldn’t bear to not have him on his team at all. 

Basketball was the only sport Armin was good at. Tetherball, baseball, soccer, all of them had led to injuries and scars that Armin still got teased about to this day, and everyone had learned early on to let him sit it out when they could. 

“You ready to go?” 

Jean’s voice cut into his thoughts, and Armin blinked, a slight blush on his cheeks after hearing Jean speak after such a long silence. “Huh?” 

“I asked if you’re ready to get back out there. You aren’t trying to fall asleep on me, are you?” He asked, his lips turned up into that smirk that Armin loved so much. 

“No,” Armin replied, sitting up and wiping his forehead. “No, I’m ready to go.” He hauled himself to his feet, feeling the wetness on the back of his shirt from how much he’d been sweating, and could already feel it starting again as he took a step. It was oppressively hot out, and it was only May. Armin could hardly stand the thought of how bad it would be in the coming months, but the thought that they might all get lucky and Sasha’s father would let her put their pool up almost made it worth it. 

Jean went and grabbed the ball, bouncing it almost rhythmically on the pavement as he waited for Armin to hurry up, and took a shot from the end of his driveway, sinking it with little to no issue. “Nice job.” Armin commented, barely managing to catch the ball from Jean when he threw it. “Seems like you’ve been practicing.” He said pointedly. 

Jean just chuckled, catching the ball and stopping it from running into the street when Armin missed his shot. “Maybe I have.” He shrugged, trying to brush it off. “Just because you’re afraid of the cold doesn’t mean everyone else is.” 

Armin’s face went scarlet at that, and he stood back as Jean took his next shot. He couldn’t help but pout just a little, and took his next shot without thinking too much about it. “I’m not  _ afraid  _ of the cold, I just freeze easily.” He said, his cheeks puffed and his bottom lip jutting out just a bit. 

He could hear Jean chuckle as he threw the ball again. “Keep telling yourself that, Ar’.” 

“Least I’m not afraid of the heat.” Armin retorted, taking his first shot and feeling disappointment hitting him as the ball bounced off the rim and out into the street. Jean ran for it and threw it back to Armin, who wasn’t paying attention and almost got smacked in the face. 

“I’m not  _ afraid  _ of the heat.” Jean spoke, rolling his eyes. “It’s just  _ hot.  _ And hot is  _ dangerous.  _ You could overheat, or get dehydrated, or end up getting a heatstroke if you’re not careful.” 

“And you can literally lose limbs if you’re out in the cold too long! You can get sick, and  _ freeze! _ ” Armin said back, his eyes wide in disbelief that Jean was fighting him on it. “Winter is every bit as dangerous, and there’s a lot less you can  _ do  _ in winter, anyway!” 

Jean said nothing for a moment, and threw the ball, landing easily in the net, and grinned a bit to himself as he went up to get the ball. “Alright, you have a point. But summer still sucks ass.” 

Armin just shook his head in response to that, knowing that the weather was something he and Jean would never in a million years agree on, and went back to playing with him in silence for a little while, the only sounds being the ball bouncing on the pavement, and the sounds of air tools coming from the auto shop at the end of the street. Being there like that, when it was just the two of them, with the white noise of the neighborhood filling the silence when they didn’t feel the need to speak, was nothing short of heaven to Armin. Soon, they would be surrounded by the others, always vying for their attention and wanting them to go in a thousand different directions, and it made moments like this that much harder to come by, and he wanted to soak up as much of this as he could while he could. 

They played for a little while longer before they heard it: a scream coming from down the street that signaled the real beginning of summertime. They both looked down the street a bit to see Sasha standing in the middle of the yard, watching them, and Jean gave her a bit of a wave before she hurried back inside, presumably to call the others and signal that practice began  _ now,  _ and Armin sighed a little to himself. 

After a few moments, Sasha was running up to them, hair pulled back and pockets stuffed with what Armin could only assume were snacks, and giving both of them a look. “You couldn’t think to tell me you two got started already?!” She yelled at them, holding her hand up for the ball. “That’s bullcrap and you know it, Kirstien!” 

Jean just snorted and passed the ball to his friend, shooting a quick look to Armin before shrugging. “Didn’t think you’d be ready to get started already, is all.” 

“Are you kidding?!” Sasha called back. “I have to be ready! Connie made it clear we’re not going to be on the same teams this year. He wants some competition. I have to be  _ ready!”  _

“So you decided to call him and ask if he wanted to come play?” Jean asked, amused. “That seems a bit counterproductive if you ask me.” 

Sasha mulled that over for a moment before it dawned on her what she just did, and her cheeks flushed bright pink. It was so natural for her to call Connie whenever anything happened, she hadn’t even let herself think that it might be a bad idea, considering. “Shut up.” She muttered, taking her first shot of the day and landing it every bit as perfectly as Jean had. 

Jean shot a quick, amused look to Armin, and Armin couldn’t help but feel himself blushing a little along with Sasha. 

Before long, all the others were there with them, and, rather than risk the wrath of Jean’s father, they decided to take it down to the school and play there instead in an unofficial game. 

Jean led the way with Armin just half a step behind him, talking amongst themselves, and apologizing that their own practice had been cut so short. “We’ll get back to it tomorrow.” Jean insisted. “Just come over earlier in the morning. I’ll call you after Dad leaves for the day.” 

“Alright.” Armin replied, pulling his hair back out of his face so he could focus. “What time, do you think?”

Jean thought about it for a bit, not knowing at all what to tell him. “It’ll depend.” He finally said. “I saw him bring home a big bottle of something last night, so depending on how much of one he ties on tonight… It could be anywhere between eight and noon.”

Armin only nodded, his expression matching Jean’s grim one. He knew all too well what Jean’s father was like when he was drinking. He was horrible when he was sober, but adding alcohol into the mix only made things ten times worse. “If you need away from it, you’re welcome to stay the night with me.” He offered, unable to help himself. 

Jean smiled humorlessly back at him, and let out a small sigh. “It’ll depend on how he is with Mom.” Jean explained. “If it’s not so bad, maybe I will, but… I don’t know. I’ll let you know later, alright?” 

“Okay.” 

  
  


The elementary school where they all spent most of their summer was only half a block away from Jean’s place, and even closer to Armin’s and Eren’s. It had been where all of them had gone to school when they were young, and where Jean and Armin had been introduced to each other. There was a huge playground in the back of the school, with a decent sized basketball court, with two hoops that had no nets, parallel bars that were so slick, doing anything on them was damn near impossible without injury, two full sets of slides with jungle gyms attached - one of which being where Armin had broken his leg back when he was young - and several sets of broken swings that nobody cared enough about to fix. 

Armin noted, as they came up on the playground, that both of the tetherballs had been cut from the ropes that held them, and felt a small surge of glee spread through him, knowing that nobody could guilt him into playing a game with them this coming year. Maybe his nose had bled enough on the balls that the staff figured it wasn’t a good idea to keep them up anymore. 

“Alright!” Jean called to the others, cutting into Armin’s thoughts. “Same teams as always?” He asked, bouncing the ball in his hand and grinning. 

“No, we’re changing the lineup this year.” Eren said back, the usual smirk on his face. “We want Marco and Sasha with us this time.” 

“Denied.” Jean said quickly, not liking the sounds of that at all. “They’re two of our best next to me and Armin.” 

“Fuck off, we already talked about it, they want to join us.” Eren growled. “You take Bertholdt and Annie.” Armin tried not to notice the smile that crossed Mikasa’s face when Eren said that. 

Jean wheeled on Marco immediately, a look of betrayal on his face, and let the smirk fall completely away. “You didn’t,” he said, all but begging the freckled boy to say it wasn’t true. “Please tell me you didn’t.” 

“Well, I - I just thought it might be fun to play against each other for once!” Marco said quickly. “You’re such a good captain, I didn’t figure you needed me anymore.” 

Armin stood back a ways, watching the two, and saw the mixture of emotions that crossed Jean’s face when Marco said that. If he didn’t know how deep that slight from Eren affected him, it would have almost been funny to see. 

“We’ll try it today.” Jean decided, biting down on his cheek to keep from pouting. “But if it doesn’t work out, they’re coming back before the season starts.” 

“Deal.” Eren said, thinking that they wouldn’t have that issue at all, seeing as his team would be able to function a little bit better now that Mikasa and Annie weren’t forced together. He’d never been able to understand their rivalry, or why they couldn’t get along. He thought that having two of the strongest players on his team would be a good thing, but they’d never been able to see eye-to-eye on  _ anything.  _ It made winning almost completely impossible. 

  
  


The game officially started, and right off the bat, Armin knew this wasn’t going to work. As usual, Jean was trying to show off to the others, and when he went to pass the ball to him, Annie intercepted, and after that, Armin couldn’t remember ever getting the ball again. It became a game between Annie and Mikasa, and after awhile, the others ended up going off to do their own things out of boredom. Before long, it was just Eren, Mikasa, Armin, and Jean left on the court. 

Armin had stopped keeping score a long time ago, when it became apparent that this wasn’t going to be much of a game for the rest of them, and mostly took to chatting with Jean while the others fought it out. 

“We’re gonna be here for awhile, you know that, right?” Jean muttered to him, the tiniest bit afraid when he realized that, despite being at it for a solid hour, neither of the girls showed any signs of wanting to back down yet. 

“I’m starting to realize that.” Armin said back, folding his arms across his chest and frowning. He’d never in his life seen Mikasa as fired up as she was now, and it honestly scared him a little. 

“What do you say we ditch the game and go get ice cream? I’ll buy.” Jean grinned, looking around really quick just to make sure Sasha hadn’t overheard them. 

The thought was so tempting to Armin to just go with Jean, he wanted to say yes. But it was such a far walk up to town, he didn’t know if he had it in him that late in the day, after a full afternoon of playing basketball. “Are you sure you want to go that far?” He asked.

Jean shrugged, looking back at the others. “Might as well. Beats standing around here, doesn’t it? We could go and come back, and I’d almost bet that they’d still be here.” 

Armin couldn’t deny that Jean was probably right about that, and shrugged. “Alright. But let’s go back home and get something to drink first. It’s too hot to go as is.” 

“Yeah, alright.” Jean grinned, clapping Armin on the arm before going up to the others and letting them know they could go if they wanted. Everyone stood up at the news, and, with the exception of Bertholdt, they all decided to head home. Reiner hung around for a little longer, trying to convince his friend to go, but Bert was having no part in it. He kept insisting he wanted to make sure Annie was alright, and that he’d be along later. Eventually, Reiner took off on his own. 

Once it was just them and the last four, Jean chuckled and motioned for Armin to follow him, and the two snuck off around the other side of the school, and doubled back around to hurry back to Armin’s for a quick drink before taking off for their treat. 

  
  


The walk up to the shop took them longer than expected. It was hot, they were hot, and the mile and a half walk seemed to stretch on forever. Armin had sweat rolling down the middle of his back, dampening his hair, and dripping from his bangs down onto the tip of his nose, and he knew, as soon as they got inside, he was going to be freezing. 

“It’s too fucking  _ hot! _ ” Jean complained, wiping the sweat from his forehead for the tenth time in just a few minutes. “If I would have been thinking, I would have told you to just get our bikes and ride up here. This fucking sucks!” 

Armin couldn’t help but smile hearing Jean talk like that, knowing he’d be completely fine once they got inside. “And if we rode our bikes, you’d be even hotter and that much more irritated.” He pointed out, knowing Jean well enough to know he was right. 

Jean opened his mouth to comment, but he knew Armin had him there, and instead he just pouted even more as they walked on. Once they were through the main crosswalk and passed the grocery store, he sped up a bit since it was almost a straight shot from then on. When Armin saw the old, rundown feed silos coming up, he breathed a sigh of relief, knowing they were almost there. 

It was an old building his grandfather talked about a lot when they drove past it, always smiling and reminiscing about what it was like when he worked there when he was young, how nice of a place it was. To Armin, it always looked haunted, and he always kept his gaze away from it when he could. Now, though, he let his eyes wander up to the dilapidated structure, how it looked like one strong storm could blow both buildings over if the wind was strong enough, and wondered if it was possible to restore them in some way. 

Looking at it through the eyes of a teenager, they were cool, almost. A landmark to remind he and Jean of how close they were to their favorite spots. That, coupled with the old diner that sat just to the right of it, with a mural of an astronaut and the moon on the side of the building that always,  _ always  _ made him smile. They were two pieces about their little town that he’d begun to fall in love with over the years, two little quirks that made him happy about where he lived. 

It had gone quiet, and only when he heard Jean groaning beside him did he realize it, and, scrambling to think of something to say, he blurted out, “How late is the comic book store open tonight?” Armin asked, peeking up at him with a little blush on his face. “We could get ice cream and go over for a few minutes, just to kill some time.” 

“If you want to, go ahead. I… probably should head back home and see how Mom’s doing. I hate leaving her alone with him when it gets late.” Jean said, his tone darkening as he spoke. 

“I don’t want to walk back by myself.” Armin replied, fanning his face a little to cool off some. It really  _ was  _ hot, but he wasn’t one to actually complain or feel angry about it. He liked the heat too much for that. It was the only time of year he actually felt warm. “We can just go another day.” 

“Sorry.” Jean muttered. 

“Don’t be! I’ll need to get back home anyways. I doubt Grandpa got lunch for himself, and he has pills, and-” 

“Point taken.” Jean teased, about to say something else but stopping himself when he realized that Armin actually looked a bit upset. “Hey,” he started, nudging him in the side, “why don’t we come back up this weekend? We can spend all day messing around reading comics if you want.” 

“Maybe not  _ all  _ day.” Armin replied, peeking up at his friend as the ice cream shop finally came into view. “They might get mad if we hang around all day and not buy anything. Eren and I’ve got in trouble for that before.” 

“Are you sure that’s the owners, or was it just  _ Eren _ that got you in trouble?” Jean asked, grabbing the door and holding it open so Armin could go through first. 

The first blast of air conditioning hit Armin square in the face, and the cold clung to every bit of sweat that still clung to his body and seeped directly into his bones. He shivered, hanging back behind Jean so he could order first, and he could soak up some of the heat that would be radiating off of his body for the next few minutes while he cooled down. He could hear the taller boy sigh in contentment behind him, knowing that he was finally happy to be out of the sun, and Armin couldn’t help but laugh quietly to himself upon hearing it. 

“I’m buying this time.” Jean said quickly, hurrying ahead of Armin. “Tell me what you want real quick.” 

“I can pay for my own.” Armin replied, reaching for his wallet. 

Jean raised his hands quickly, trying to silence him, and waved off the offered money. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just make you pay next time. Or I’ll just make you buy me a comic.” 

Armin put his wallet back with a bit of a pout, hating that Jean could get to him so easily, and pouted up at him. “That’s hardly fair. Comics are a lot cheaper than ice cream.” 

“Then buy me two!” Jean replied, his eyes wide in exasperation due to Armin’s stubbornness and the heat. “It’s really not a big deal, Ar’, relax.” 

Armin sighed, giving in for the moment, having every intention of getting him back for it, and told him what he wanted. Jean ordered and paid, then went off to find a table. “Go ahead and sit down.” Armin told him. “I’ll wait for everything.” Mostly, he wasn’t ready to sit down directly under one of the vents, at the table he  _ knew  _ Jean was going to sit at. He always did, every time they came up here, and it always left Armin feeling miserable by the time they got outside. 

Once his back was to him, Armin went back up to the counter, and added on an order of fries for them to split, just so he could feel like things were even. 

~ 

Jean complained a little less as they made their way back home, seeing as the sun was beginning to go down, and wasn’t beating directly into his back, and actually managed a smile while Armin finished off his treat as they walked. “You know, you could have finished that while we were there. I would have waited.” 

“I know that,” Armin said, munching on a small piece of cheesecake that was at the bottom of his cup. “But you said you wanted to get home, and besides, it’s too cold for me to eat this stuff in there.” 

“Armin, no offense, but it could be over a hundred degrees outside, and you’d still be too cold.” Jean snorted, knowing he was right based on the blush in his cheeks. “Are you sure you’re not some kind of reptile? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen this same kind of thing in lizards.” 

Armin rolled his eyes and took another bite, not wanting to admit that he still felt chilled after spending so much time inside. “And what if I am?” He asked. 

“Then I think it would make a lot of sense. Or, hey, I just thought of something. Maybe all your blood is going to your monster sized brain. Maybe that’s why you freeze so much.” 

“That would make more sense than being a reptilian.” Armin retorted, finishing off his ice cream so he could focus on warming back up. “But I’m pretty sure I just run colder than the average person.” 

“I don’t see  _ how.”  _ Jean replied, wiping his forehead again. “Living here? I always feel like I’m gonna melt every time I step outside. I hate it.” 

“You’re just hot. Give it twenty minutes in front of your ac and you’ll be fine.” Armin snorted, crumpling his cup and shoving it in his back pocket for the time being. 

Jean fell silent for a moment after Armin spoke, knowing that wasn’t exactly true. Yes, he was a bit more irritated due to the heat, but the thought of going home was really starting to get to him with every step closer he got. He hated to think about what waited for him, if his father was already drunk or well on his way, and what kind of mood he would be in when he got there. Some days, it was easier to ignore than others. Sometimes, it would just be passing comments that he could brush off and go hide in his room to forget, and other… it wasn’t so easy. 

“Hey, Armin,” Jean spoke after a little bit. “If… things are bad tonight, do you mind if I crash at your place?” 

Armin turned to look at him and got a good look at the nervous look on his face, and felt his lips turning down into a frown. “You know you’re always welcome to. But are you thinking it’ll be bad?” 

“There’s no telling.” Jean sighed, shoving his hands in his back pockets. “I hope it’s not as bad as I’m thinking. I’m just… worried. I don’t feel like listening to him scream all night.” 

“I’ll let Grandpa know.” Armin promised. “Just come over if you need to.”

“Thanks, Armin.” 

~

It was 10:00 that night when Armin got the call. A fight had broken out between Jean and his father, and he was coming over. Armin slipped downstairs and unlocked the front door, waiting for Jean to come riding up on his bike and put it up at the side of the house. Quietly, he opened up, stepping back while his friend came inside, and Armin noticed all too quickly the bruise beginning to form on his cheek. Much to his embarrassment, Jean noticed him looking and shook his head. 

“Please don’t ask.” He begged, taking his shoes off and hiding the injured side of his face from Armin’s view. 

Armin let out a breath and nodded quickly at Jean, wanting to know but also wanting to respect his privacy, and hurried around in front of him to lead him back to his room. “Your sleeping bag is already ready.” he promised. “I got all your stuff ready as soon as you called.” 

“Thanks.” Jean murmured, grabbing up his clothes and taking them off to the bathroom while Armin got settled on his bed. 

He hated nights like this. The bruised cheeks and bloody noses were starting to become a habit as Jean got older, and Armin was really beginning to get scared. What would happen if things got much worse? Would Jean have to leave? What if he had to go, and they never saw each other again? He could be taken to any corner of the state with a foster family, or be taken out of state all together, and they’d be separated and Jean would never know how grateful Armin was for him, and-

“Hey,” 

Armin looked up when he heard the voice, breathing a small sigh of relief when he realized Jean was back, and scooted over on his bed enough that his friend could sit with him for a little while. “How’s your face?” 

“Hurts.” Jean replied, rubbing gingerly over the spot. “He’s lucky he didn’t knock one of my teeth out.”

Armin got another good look at the bruise on his cheek and his stomach dropped, knowing how bad it had to hurt. He’d had his own fair share of bruises and unfair punches thrown his way. “Do you want me to get some ice for it?” 

“Nah.” Jean shook his head, and Armin noticed he was speaking out of the unhurt side of his mouth. “It’s already gonna swell anyway, maybe if I leave it a miracle will happen and he’ll feel bad.” 

“He should feel bad anyway.” Armin replied, unable to fathom how someone could do that to their own child. 

“Yeah, well…” Jean muttered, and things fell silent for a little while after that. Armin could see Jean out of the corner of his eye every so often rubbing the spot on his face where he’d been struck, and as the minutes ticked by, the mood in the room became heavy with things that weren’t being said. 

“I didn’t ask for this, you know.” Jean sniffed after a little while, and Armin could tell he was trying not to get emotional.

“For what?” Armin asked, glancing over at his friend curiously. 

Jean swallowed thickly, his eyes scrunching up with repressed tears, and Armin could just see his lip beginning to wobble. “Being born. I never  _ asked  _ for it.” 

“What?” Armin said, scooting back a little so he could see him better. Out of all the things that he expected Jean to say, that was very low down on the list. “What do you mean?” 

“That’s - that’s what he’s pissed about.” Jean admitted. “Me being alive. He - he came into my room, drunk off his ass, and he starts screaming at me, saying that I ruined his life and he wishes I wasn’t ever born. Well, guess what, he’s not the only one.” 

“Jean-” 

“I do, Armin.” Jean replied, blinking back the tears. “My dad made it clear he never wanted me. What about my mom? Did she not want me, either? Did I ruin her life, too? Have I ruined  _ everyone’s  _ lives just by existing?” 

Armin couldn’t help but wince when Jean spoke, his words cutting him every bit as much as they did himself. How could Jean think that he’d ruined his life? It was the exact opposite, if Armin was honest. Jean made his life better, just by being in it. He always had. 

“You know that’s not true.” Armin murmured softly, pain clear in his voice. “Your mom loves you more than anything, Jean, you know that. And you know I don’t think you ruined my life.” 

Jean didn’t say anything for a few moments, but Armin did see him raise his hand to his eyes, presumably to wipe away some tears he didn’t want him to see. Armin didn’t comment, and just let him have a moment to himself. “I know.” He finally admitted, swallowing. “Sorry.”

“Please don’t be.” Armin replied, glancing quickly over at Jean and feeling his heart break when he saw tear tracks on his cheeks. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.” 

“I have a lot to apologize for.” 

“Like what?” Armin asked, tucking his hair back behind his ear. 

“Like…  _ this.  _ Coming over here all the time because my dad sucks. It’s… I shouldn’t be doing this to you.” 

“Have I ever complained about you spending the night?” 

Jean paused for a second as he thought about that, frowning. “No, but-”

“Then no buts. You  _ know  _ I like having you here, Jean, and I want to make sure that you’re safe. If being safe means you being here, then that’s  _ fine.  _ Grandpa and I don’t mind.” Armin insisted, his heart hurting knowing Jean felt guilty about this. 

“I’m still sorry.” Jean muttered, running his hand back through his hair and letting his head thump softly against the wall. “I shouldn’t put this on you all the time.” 

Armin sighed. “You’re not putting anything on me that I don’t ask you to. Like it or not, I’m going to help you. You’re one of my best friends, Jean.” 

Jean just nodded in response and brought his long legs up onto the bed with him, curling in on himself as much as his body would allow. Things fell silent between them again and the quiet was beginning to get to Armin a lot. He chewed on his lip while Jean lost himself to his thoughts, trying to keep his own from suffocating him completely. Every rise and fall of Jean’s chest, every breath that caught and shook, it all did nothing but make Armin feel that much worse that there wasn’t more that he could do to fix this. He couldn’t wave a magic wand, or say a phrase, or even  _ wish  _ all of this away, and he  _ hated  _ it. 

He’d never felt so useless in his life. 

Jean shifted after a few moments, adjusting himself from his uncomfortable position and sitting a little bit closer to Armin, which kickstarted his heart and made him very aware of the few inches of free space that separated their bodies, knowing if his foot twitched the wrong way, he would nudge him, or if he moved his hand at all, it would end up touching Jean’s thigh. He was stuck there, as he was, lest he want to travel into all of the terrifying waters that being this close to Jean always seemed to try to drown him in. 

“Are you tired?” Armin asked, his voice soft, curious, rather than trying to hint at anything. 

“Yeah.” 

“Do you want to try to sleep?” 

Jean just shrugged. 

Armin took a breath, knowing that Jean was feeling bad if he wasn’t really  _ talking,  _ and knew the best thing for him would probably be to put on some music or watch something on TV, something mindless that they could laugh at until they fell asleep, but he couldn’t bring himself to get up to put anything on. 

Instead, he turned his head so he could see Jean a little easier, and swallowed. “For the record, I’m glad you were born.” 

Jean smiled hollowly when he heard that, but knocked his leg into Armin nonetheless. “Glad someone is, I guess.” 

Armin knocked right back into him, trying to get a real smile out of him, and before long, it turned into a full on battle of them knocking their legs into each other a little harder every time, just to see who would break first. 

Armin got a lucky shot to Jean’s shin and made him yelp, and the taller boy pulled his leg away to rub at the sore spot. “Jerk.” He muttered heatlessly, finally smiling a little bit. 

“Loser.” Armin grinned, a little proud of himself knowing that he’d won for once. The heaviness in the room finally let up, and for just a moment, their eyes met across the room, Jean mock glaring at him and Armin grinning in triumph, both of them trapped in that endless feeling that made their hearts race and their hands shake. 

Jean broke the eye contact first, and went back to rubbing his leg where Armin kicked him, and thought maybe… being there wasn’t so bad when he had Armin. Maybe… he  _ didn’t  _ fully regret being born. 

He stayed up on the bed with Armin for a little while longer, too many thoughts running in his head about too many different things, and when the good started to be overshadowed by the bad once again, he finally got up and went to lay in his sleeping bag.

Once Jean was gone, Armin settled in his own bed and got under the covers, turned onto his side so he could look down over at Jean in case he still wanted to talk. He could feel the same sadness as before rolling off of him, and it broke his heart to see. Jean was quiet, turned with his back to Armin and not moving. 

Armin started to drift, and kept his eyes closed when he heard the shift on the floor beside him, but he clearly heard what Jean whispered into the dark. 

“I can’t stay here much longer, Armin.” 

The way he said it, the desperation and conviction in his voice, tore at something deep in Armin’s heart. He knew, in that moment, that nothing would stop the inevitable from happening; someday, Jean really would get out of their town, and from the way it sounded, he wouldn’t be coming back. Not if he could help it, anyway. It made his stomach churn, made him want to beg whoever was listening to make it not happen, to keep Jean there with him forever, but he couldn’t. He knew it wouldn’t do any good, anyway. 

Jean’s words were spoken as a plea, a cry for help from the one person he thought might understand, but to Armin, it felt like nothing more than an omen. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been meaning to tell you, I think your house is haunted, your dad is always mad and that must be why/And I think you should come live with me and we can be pirates/Then you won’t have to cry - Taylor Swift

Armin barely slept. After hearing what Jean said, he couldn’t stop turning it over and over in his mind, and worry sat like a stone in his gut. There weren’t too many ways to take it, but none of them ended with anything good. He knew Jean had wanted to get out and explore the world; it was something they’d talked about for years when they were growing up, about adventures they wanted to go on and countries they wanted to see.

There was a time when he would have gone anywhere with Jean if he asked the moment he asked him. Now, though, he had the full weight of looking after his grandfather on his shoulders, and a future he’d mapped out for himself right at home. Jean was different, though. Jean still had all of those trips in his heart, and the romanticization of leaving the city was still filling his head. He planned on leaving the state for college once they graduated, and Armin knew if things kept going the way they were at home, he wouldn’t be coming back.

It scared him more than he wanted to admit, the thought of Jean going on all of those adventures without him. 

Jean stirred sometime in the early hours of the morning, but Armin made no move to get up just yet. He wasn’t ready to face the day and try to push down all the panic he was having over the thought of being left behind. 

He lay there for a little while longer on his side, his eyes fixed on the wall in front of him, while Jean quietly listened to music on the floor from his phone. It was a band he recognized as one of Jean’s favorites, and one he had found himself growing to like quite a lot. He couldn’t remember the name, but the lead singer had bright orange hair and an album with a butterfly on the cover. 

Finally, when the sky changed from dark blue to pink, Armin stirred and rolled over, trying to look as tired as possible. “Morning,” he mumbled to Jean, blinking his eyes a few times and yawning. “Have you been up long?” 

“Morning yourself,” Jean replied, the same defeated, broken tone to his voice as was there the night before. “Not too long, no. I’ve just been listening to music.”

“I hear.”

“Sorry.” 

“No, don’t be.” Armin said, finally sitting up and stretching. “It’s nice. It’s nice not to wake up in silence for once.” 

“I don’t know how you stand it.” Jean replied, sitting up too and turning the music up just a bit. “I’d go crazy if I didn’t have something going on in the background. That’s one of the reasons I hate school so much.” 

“Because you can’t listen to music in class?” 

“Yeah.” Jean yawned, stretching a little himself. “You know what it’s like being stuck in your own head all the time? It fucking sucks. The less I have to listen to what’s going on up there, the better.” 

Armin thought he could understand that at least. He knew what it was like to spend most of the time in his own head, never getting a break from his own thoughts or worries. Just a constant loop of the same anxieties playing over and over until he exhausted himself enough that he fell asleep. “I do know.” He eventually said. 

“Yeah, I know. You always have thought too damn much.” 

“It’s not that bad.” Armin shrugged. “It’s because I think too much I give you a run for your money in class.” 

Jean cracked a little bit of a smile when Armin said that, supposing he was right, and hummed a little along with the music. As frustrating as it could be sometimes to be up against Armin in academics, he always appreciated the challenge. Armin kept him on his toes, the friendly rivalry between them always pushing him to do a little better than the last time. “Someday, I’m gonna beat you.” He vowed. 

Armin chuckled, knowing that wasn’t entirely likely, but he gave into the challenge anyway. “I’ll just have to keep getting smarter, then, I guess.” 

“No, you’re already smart enough.” Jean retorted, grabbing his pillow and throwing it up at Armin. “Give me at least a bit of a chance, will you?”

Armin caught the pillow and laughed down at him, deciding to do just that on their next test. He could stand to let himself slip a little, he guessed. Even if it was on purpose. 

*

Jean stayed for breakfast with them, and after shoveling down four of Mr. Arlert’s homemade pancakes, he and Armin set out for the comic book store, like had been promised the day before. Jean wasn’t entirely looking forward to the walk up there again, and looking at Armin walking next to him, a cardigan pulled tight around his shoulders, was just making him even hotter. “How can you stand that in this heat?” Jean asked in a bit of disbelief. 

“It’s going to rain.” Armin reasoned, looking up at the sky. It was a deep blue, and didn’t entirely look like it would rain as far as Jean was concerned, but he kept quiet. If Armin was cold, he was cold, even if it did seem insane to him. “I’d rather be a little too warm than freeze when it starts.” 

Jean hummed in response and walked on with Armin until they reached the old silos again, and made him stop for a second while he stretched his back out. “God, sleeping on the floor’s starting to suck.” He complained, though there was little heat in his words. “Either that, or there’s something wrong with my back.”    
  
“It’s probably because we’re getting older.” Armin shrugged. “My arm hurts a lot more when it gets cold out than it used to. And I’ve noticed my hands start to hurt after writing for a long time.” 

“That’s just because you write too much at a time, nerd.” Jean teased affectionately, trying his best to ignore his own thoughts over the fact that they  _ were  _ getting older, and still stuck in the same town. It made him feel claustrophobic. “What do you even have that takes so long to write out?” 

“I keep a journal.” Armin admitted, tucking a piece of hair back behind his ear and turning away from Jean in embarrassment. “I-Grandpa… he used to keep one when he was young, and he found an old one a few months ago that he never used, so… he thought maybe I might like to start doing it, too.” He was expecting Jean to tease him for it, to make some comment about how weird that was to do, but he didn’t. 

“Huh…” Jean mused instead, thinking about it. “Maybe I should start doing it, too. If only to get it out somewhere how much my dad sucks.” 

“It might help.” Armin replied, peeking up at him and feeling a small tug on his heart. It made him wonder, if his own father was still around, would they be the same way, or would it be different? Would his parents have taken Jean in as open-heartedly as his grandfather had? He hoped so. 

“Though,” Jean spoke after a few seconds, “writing all of that shit out, it’s not half as therapeutic as bitching to you is.” 

With a small snort, Armin rolled his eyes, and Jean nudged him in the side, which got a real laugh from him. “I’m glad for that, at least.” 

  
  
  


*

The bell over the door to the small comic book shop rang as they stepped inside, the floorboards creaking under their feet and the smell of ink and paper filling their noses and making them both feel a bit more at peace. Jean immediately headed over to the comics, just for something to do, while Armin browsed around at some of the action figures displayed on the other side of the aisle. All was quiet in the shop aside from the sounds of shuffling coming from the basement from the owners, and a Disney song playing on a low volume from the speaker. 

After a moment, Armin pulled away from the figures and headed up to the counter, a long, glass case that wrapped around from one end of the store to the other, filled with rare cards and sets of dice that always caught his attention when he was there. He browsed while Jean looked around, his finger tapping on the glass in time with the music, and after a moment heard his friend snorting. Armin turned to see Jean holding up a t-shirt with the logo for the shop in a parody of an old movie on the front. 

“Think I could pull this off?” He asked, grinning as he modeled it for him. 

“Probably.” Armin replied, laughing a little himself at his friend. “You gonna get it?” 

Jean looked down at the shirt, then back up to Armin, and shrugged. “Why not?” He decided, slinging it over his shoulder and walking up to where Armin was, and started looking around with him. “You find anything interesting?” 

Armin’s eyes flickered up to his friend for half a second before he shook his head, tucking his hair back behind his ear. “Not really, no.”

“Liar.” Jean replied, poking his shoulder. “You always find good shit when we’re here.” 

“Nothing I can afford right now, though.” Armin answered, trying not to blush when Jean touched him. 

“What’d you find?” 

“Nothing.” Armin said quickly, knowing Jean too well to know what he was thinking. 

“Armin.” 

“Jean.” 

His friend scoffed, and with a little smile, pulled back from the counter and headed off to look around in the board game section, where he knew Armin usually found little trinkets that he liked, and picked up a blind bag from a show they both liked, and went up to the counter. “Well, I found you something.” He said. 

“Put it back.” Armin insisted, blushing a little. “Please?” 

“No. I promised I’d get you something when we came up here, didn’t I?” 

“A comic, but Jean that-” 

“Armin, if I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t. You know me well enough to know that.” 

Sighing with defeat, Armin relented, and shoved his hands in the pockets of his coat while Jean got the attention of the owner, and got checked out. They stood around for a moment, talking to the guy about anything and everything, Jean getting more and more animated when he mentioned one of the new superhero movies that was about to come out, and Armin stood nearby, his eyes focused on Jean and feeling his breath beginning to shake just a little seeing the sparkle in his eyes while he spoke. 

Eventually, it got to be too much for him, and Armin tapped Jean on the arm and leaned in close. “I’m gonna step outside and sit down.” He murmured, catching Jean’s nod before opening the door and sitting out on the tall front step of the shop. Much like he thought, the sky was darkening up and he knew it would be raining before they headed home, and he shivered at the thought. The last thing he wanted to deal with was walking into the house soaking wet, and have to make the obvious choice between continuing to freeze, or peeling himself out of his soaking wet clothes and getting a shower. 

After a few moments, Jean headed outside after him, looking concerned that something happened. “You alright?” He asked, stepping out onto the pavement so he could look at him.    
  
“Yeah.” Armin breathed, getting to his feet and pulling his cardigan around him. “Yeah, I think there’s a lot of dust or something in there. I was getting a bit choked up.” 

“You feel alright now?” 

Armin nodded again, and while he expected to be heading back home, Jean had started across the lot of the building across the street to get ice cream.

“Jean, what are you doing?” 

“What? I’m hungry!” Jean called back, turning to look at Armin with the tiniest bit of a pout on his face. 

“We were just there yesterday!” 

“So?” Jean called back, holding his ground and knowing if Armin wanted to stop yelling back and forth he’d have to come up to him. “We can go two days in a row, can’t we?” 

Armin couldn’t find an argument strong enough to deny him, and with a sigh, he hurried across the street and up to his friend, giving him a small shake of his head. He knew the real reason Jean wanted to go, so he didn’t have to go back home and face his father right away, and knew in his heart he couldn’t stand to tell him no. Not when Jean needed away. 

Not when Armin would do anything to spend another second with him. 

“You’re letting me pay this time.” Jean insisted, peeking over at him, still pouting a bit. 

“No.” Came the reply. 

“Armin-” 

“You bought me something at the comic book store when I told you not to. I’m not letting you pay for everything.” 

“You act like it’s a bother for me to do.” 

“I know it’s not.” Armin said, shoving his hands in the pockets of his sweater. “It’s a pain for  _ me  _ when you do.” 

“How’s that?” Jean asked, holding the door to the shop open for him so they could go in. 

“Because you  _ always  _ do things like that. I want to be able to return the favor now and then.” Armin admitted, looking up at him with that serious look in his eyes that Jean always went weak for. 

“You do.” Jean said simply, hurrying passed Armin so he could get their usual order together. “You let me stay at your place when I need to.” He saw Armin opening his mouth to argue, but he shushed him, not wanting to hear it. “It helps. You have no idea how much it helps, Ar’.” 

With a huff, Armin stood back, waiting for Jean to finish up before going to find them a place to sit, and pouted a little as they waited for their food, despite his friend’s best efforts to get him to not. “You’re too good of a person, do you know that?” 

Jean just shook his head in a silent denial, and made small talk with him before going to get their food. 

*

It was his dad’s late night at work. Jean had invited Armin over for dinner with him and his mother, who had been dying to see him for a good while now. It had been too long since she’d gotten the chance to check in with him, to make sure Armin was doing okay and his grandfather was, too, and she worried after him almost as much as she worried about her own son. 

Mrs. Kirstein was the closest thing to a mother that Armin had, not counting Mrs. Jaeger and even Mikasa, when she got into her protective side, and he adored her for it. She was always sweet to him when he was there, or when they ran into each other out at the store, and always sent him home with too much food for he and his grandfather to eat. 

Jean had been hanging out at his house all afternoon, the two of them sitting out in the backyard on the swingset that was much too small to be of any use to them now, just enjoying the spring breeze. 

“I heard something interesting today.” Jean said after a little bit of silence, that huge grin on his face as he looked over at Armin. 

“What?” 

“Guess.” 

“I have no idea.” 

With a somehow even bigger grin, Jean turned the swing so he was fully turned to him, and gripped the chains holding him up. “Paramore’s coming.” 

“What?” Armin asked, his eyes lighting up a bit at the news. “When?” 

“End of summer.” Jean replied. “Tickets go on sale next month. Wanna go?” 

Armin nodded enthusiastically, more excited by the idea of spending that time with Jean than anything else, and let himself think about it for a moment, and how nice it would be. 

“Cool.” Jean said, trying not to let himself look too excited about seeing his favorite band with his favorite person. 

“Cool.” Armin replied. 

They fell into a contented quiet for a little while, both of them lost in their own thoughts about the concert, about how nice it would be to not only get the chance to spend almost a full day together, on their own, but also having something to look forward to the end of summer was always a plus. Especially for Armin. 

The end of summer marked the end of heat, which always put him in a bad mood, and rarely found excuses to be  _ happy  _ about the chillier months. But now? Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. 

*

Luckily for Armin, his grandfather was going out that night for a reunion dinner with some of his local war buddies, which meant that he’d be on his own for the evening. As soon as he found out, he called Jean to let him know, and hung around just long enough at home to make sure his grandpa got on the road okay before taking his bike from around back and peddling as fast as he could down to Jean’s.

The wind kissed his face as he zipped through the neighborhood, his excitement over getting to spend the evening with the Kirsteins all too rare of an occurrence not to be, but that joy immediately drained from him when he saw Mr. Kirstein’s work truck parked on the street in front of the house. Armin skidded to a halt, dread filling his heart, and wondered if maybe he could talk Jean into coming to his place to eat. Maybe they could order pizza or something. 

Armin was just wondering what he should do when Jean came tumbling out of the house, a horrified look on his face when he realized that Armin was outside, and a frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. He could already hear the taller boy trying to apologize, and it broke his heart. None of this was Jean’s fault. 

“Armin,” Jean said, jogging up to him. “I-” 

Armin just shook his head, trying not to look disappointed, and climbed off his bike. “Don’t worry. Do you want to come back home? We can get pizza or something if you want?” 

Jean glanced quickly back at his house, seemingly torn on what to do, and sighed. “Mom still wants you to come.” He said, almost regretfully. “But you don’t have to. I - I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to back out.” 

“I don’t want to.” Armin said quickly, not wanting Jean to get the wrong idea. “If - If your mom thinks it’ll be okay, I’ll stay.” 

Jean grimaced, and Armin pretended he didn’t see. 

“Come on, then.” Jean said, leading him back to the house slowly as Armin walked his bike a little ways behind him. 

  
  


The mood inside the Kirstein home was just as hostile as Armin remembered from the other times he’d been there when Jean’s father was home. The air was thick with tension so heavy and tight that the slightest wrong move would make it snap. Jean quietly let Armin in, intending on leading him back to his room so they could eat back there, but were unfortunately stopped by his mother. 

“Armin!” She smiled, hurrying up to them and pulling Jean’s friend in for a hug. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you! How are you? How’s your grandfather?” 

“We’re both okay, Mrs. Kirstein.” Armin mumbled, keeping his voice down. “What about you?” 

With a little sigh, Marie looked over her shoulder towards the kitchen where her husband was sitting, and just shook her head. “About the same as always. But that’s not important. It’s so good to see you!”

“We’re gonna go.” Jean said hurriedly, grabbing Armin gently by the arm and pulling him down the hall to his room, knowing better than to shut the door lest his father find out, and fell nervously down onto his bed. “Fuck!” 

Armin hovered nervously close to the door, taking in quick, shallow breaths, afraid that taking too deep of one would make everything fall out of the very delicate balance it was currently in. He swallowed, looking around Jean’s small room, filled to the brim with bookshelves full of cds, books, and records given to him by his own grandpa. On the corner of Jean’s bed, hanging on the bottom post, was the old fedora that had been given to him the previous summer, when Jean had helped them clean out a small section of their attic.

As his grandpa got older, the more and more he wanted things decluttered, mostly so Armin wouldn’t have to go through it all if something happened to him. He had said repeatedly that he wanted to make that as easy as possible on him, and while Armin appreciated the thought, the fear of that very thing sat in the back of his mind, always making him feel sick and worried about his grandpa and how much longer he’d have with him. 

He knew it was dumb to worry so much, but he couldn’t help it. Jean was always getting after him for worrying about things so far in the future, but Armin had always been a worrier, and no amount of complaints from his friend would change that. 

Jean leaned back against the wall and Armin could hear the soft  _ thunk  _ of his head hitting it as he dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Sit down.” He said, his voice slightly muffled, knowing Armin too well. 

Armin went to the bed and sat down at the end, wanting to give Jean some space in case he needed it, and brought his legs up with him, curled in as small of a ball as he could get. 

He didn’t know how long they sat there in an uncomfortable silence, but it was all too soon broken by the sound of a bottle breaking and a chair hitting the ground, and the rising of Jean’s father’s voice. 

“How fucking hard is it to fucking get pasta right?!” He yelled. “Are you that fucking stupid not to put salt in the fucking pan?!” 

“I-“ Came Marie’s shocked reply, and before anything else could be said, Jean was on his feet, hurrying out of his room to stop whatever was happening. 

“Stay here, Armin.” His friend murmured quickly on his way out. 

“And what the fuck are  _ you _ doing?” 

“Just coming to see what the yelling is about. We have company, you know.” Jean said cooly. 

“You mean that little freak you tag along after all the time? The fuck is he even doing here?” 

Armin winced. He knew Jean’s father didn’t like him all that much, but even still. That hurt. 

“He’s not a freak!” Jean yelled at the same time his mother tried to shush them both. 

“He’s in Jean’s room.” Marie murmured. “That’s a horrible thing to say about your son’s friend.” 

“I never claimed this little bastard!” His father shouted. “I never fucking  _ wanted  _ you! Hell, I wouldn’t have if your fucking whore of a mom and her dad didn’t come around threatening me to marry her! For all I know, he could be someone else’s!” 

“Don’t fucking call her that!” Jean screamed, and Armin heard a thud as someone hit a wall, the pictures on the other side rattling a little from the force. 

“Stop!” His mother cried. “Stop, let him go!” 

“I’ve  _ had it  _ with you!” His father growled. “My life would be so much better if you’d just die!” 

_ “STOP!”  _ Marie screamed again, and the sounds of a small scuffle breaking out. “He’s your  _ son! Stop! _ ” 

Jean had asked him to stay there, but the sound of Marie panicking got Armin up off the bed and he was just poking his head around the corner when he saw Jean’s father grabbing him by the shirt and hit him hard in the face, repeating again that he ruined his life. 

Marie finally ripped him off of her son, and Jean wasted no time before rearing back and spitting right in his father’s face before heading back to his room and right passed Armin. 

“Jean, I-” 

“Come on.” Jean said, grabbing another pair of shoes and his jacket before going to his window and opening it. There was no way in hell he was making Armin walk past that man, and he wasn’t risking it for himself either. “You still want to get that pizza?” 

Armin waited until Jean had climbed out his window before attempting it himself, stumbling a bit as he hit the ground, only to be caught by Jean. “That’s fine with me.” He breathed, straightening himself out while Jean went to get his bike, climbing onto it and figuring it would be easier for him to peddle two people instead of Armin. 

“Mind if I crash at your place again?” 

Armin climbed onto the back of his own bike, standing unsteadily on the pegs and gripping Jean’s shoulders as tight as he could without hurting him. 

They took the long way back, not wanting to go by Sasha’s place and have to talk to her, not when Jean was in such a bad mood, and by the time they got to the Arlert home, Jean was completely out of breath. Armin climbed off the bike first, and, rather than leave it sit in the yard like he would have his own, Jean walked Armin’s bike around back and put it in the place Armin normally kept it under the patio. 

By the time he got back around, Armin had the door unlocked and was just waiting for him to get inside before shutting and locking the door behind them. Mr. Arlert had an affinity for keeping takeout menus in his home, just so he would be prepared when he and Armin didn’t want to cook, and kept them all in one of the drawers in the kitchen. Rummaging through them, Armin picked out the ones for the local pizza places and handed them to Jean to look through while he got some ice for his face. 

Jean absentmindedly looked through them, not really caring one way or another on what they did, and just set them down on the table before taking a seat. He ran his hand back through his hair on the uninjured side of his face and sighed, his mind going a hundred miles a minute. 

“I can’t do this anymore, Armin.” He murmured, pain evident in his voice. “I can’t stay here forever.” 

“It’s just a couple more years.” Armin said back, handing Jean a Ziplock bag full of ice. “Put that on your face.” 

Jean took the bag from Armin and gingerly touched it to his already puffy eye, wincing a bit as the cold only served to make it hurt worse for a second or two. “I’m not gonna last another two years here.” He said back, looking over at his friend as he sat down across from him. “One of us will kill the other before then. I-I mean you heard him - he wants me dead. I can’t…” Jean swallowed, desperately looking at the other boy in hopes he would understand, but all he was met with was a look that made his heart break. “If I stay there much longer, I might just give him what he wants.” 

Armin froze. He knew Jean wasn’t in the best state of mind, but he didn’t realize it was that bad. He looked at him desperately, wanting to know what he could do to help, while also being selfish enough to want him to  _ stay.  _ “Why don’t you just stay here?” He suggested. 

“Armin, this place is barely big enough for you and your grandpa as it is. The last thing you need is for me getting in the middle of it.”

“Neither of us would mind!” Armin said quickly, grabbing a menu at random and deciding just to order something for something to do. “You know neither of us would mind.” 

Jean just offered him a smile and chose to say nothing, both of them knowing he wouldn’t take up the offer no matter how badly Armin wanted him to. While he was on the phone, Jean got up and headed back to the back of the house, and Armin sighed heavily as he watched his shadow disappear into the bathroom. 

  
  


No questions were asked that night when Mr. Arlert got home, and their pizza was eaten in near complete silence. Every time Jean moved, he would wince, obviously in pain, and when the boys went up to bed that night, Armin insisted on letting Jean take his bed. 

For once, Jean didn’t protest, and laid his head down where Armin usually put his feet so he could face him without hurting himself too much, and Armin put on one of Jean’s favorite CDs so they could listen for awhile before going to bed. 

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And I, I hate to see your heart break/I hate to see your eyes get darker as they close/But I’ve been there before” - Paramore & Joy Williams

Jean was uncharacteristically quiet at school the next day at school, not fighting back against the teasing that Eren and Connie sent his way, and not really answering any questions from anyone when they asked about his eye. To their teachers, he told them that he had gotten into a fight after school, but when pressed for a name, he shut down completely and went back to his homework. 

Armin watched him the whole morning, thinking back over what he had said the night before about leaving, about wanting to get out of his house before something happened, and felt his own heart breaking a little bit. He was selfless enough to want to help Jean out, but he was also selfish enough to try to figure out a way for him to get out while also staying there with him. Armin tapped the eraser of his pencil on his notebook, half paying attention to what their teacher was talking about while also trying to come up with a solution for their own problems. 

Jean seemed hellbent on getting out. That was for certain. But maybe, if he realized everything that he had to stick around for, he’d think twice and either take him up on his offer to stay with he and his grandpa, or stick it out until they could get an apartment nearby when they graduated. 

Armin stole a quick look over at his friend, wondering what he could possibly do to get through to him, when Eren flicked a pencil of his own at the back of his head. Jean turned, glaring murderously at the brunette, and Eren backed off when he realized that he was being serious in his agitation. 

Armin shot him an apologetic look before he turned back to Jean, wondering what he could do to make things better for him. 

*

Jean hurried out of their last class as soon as the bell rang, telling Armin to hurry along with him. Armin looked back to where their friends were all looking in confusion, and hurriedly followed Jean out of the building. He almost had to run to keep up with him, upset to see that it looked like his mood hadn’t improved at all. 

“What’s the rush?” Armin asked once they were finally together again. “Why’d you want to leave so soon?” 

“Counselor wanted to talk to me.” Jean admitted, hunching his shoulders a bit as they walked. “I don’t want to talk to anyone like that. I’m so close to getting out of here, I just want to do my eight hours and  _ leave. _ ” 

Armin looked over at him with a frown, thinking that maybe talking to someone wouldn’t be so bad, if Jean would let them in, but he knew if he mentioned it, he would just say talking to  _ him  _ was enough. 

With a small sigh, he followed after him to wherever Jean planned to lead them, and wasn’t surprised when he stopped at his own house for his ball, and motioned for Armin to follow him down to the elementary school so they could play. 

Jean didn’t say much for the first little while that they were there, just aimlessly shooting basket after basket in hopes of one or two making it in. It wasn’t until Connie, followed by Marco and Sasha, came by that he finally stopped for a second. “What?” He called over to them. 

“What happened today?” Sasha asked, hurrying ahead of the boys so she could find out. “And what happened to your eye?” 

Jean shifted uncomfortably and let the ball fall from his hands and roll off towards the grass. “I already told you, I got into a fight. And I just wanted to leave. It’s not a big thing.” 

Armin caught the look on Sasha’s face and immediately knew she didn’t buy a word of what Jean was saying. She was always scarily intuitive, especially when it came to Connie and Jean, and Armin wondered for a moment if she’d call him out or not. 

She didn’t. Instead, she stepped back and went for the ball, bouncing it as she walked back up with it, and sank a basket on her first try. “Why don’t we play a game?” She suggested. “Me, Connie, and Marco versus you and Armin.” 

Jean looked over at her, confused and irritated by the numbers. “Why should you get Marco?!” He demanded. “That’s hardly fair!” 

“Because you and Armin play too well together! I think it’s only fair that we get any and all help we can!” Sasha said back. 

Jean paused, mulling that over for a moment before finally agreeing, and throwing the ball to their freckle faced friend, letting him go first. 

It was true. No matter what they played, when he and Jean were on a team together, they were virtually unstoppable. Armin didn’t exactly know what it was, but they just…  _ clicked  _ that way. With his quick thinking and Jean’s ability to assess situations almost as fast, and the added bonus that they’d always seemed to be able to tell what the other was thinking, they could predict each other’s moves, almost. 

Armin couldn’t help but smile a tiny bit to himself when Sasha pointed it out. 

“Fine,” Jean grumbled eventually, hurrying over to Armin while the others got ready. “Let’s kick their asses.” He murmured, getting a giggle out of his friend that made his stomach twist. 

-

Connie, Sasha, and Marco were three points down and gaining fast. Jean wasn’t on his game, and it put a bit of a handicap on them, but at least it seemed like his aggression was being let out, even if it  _ was  _ on their only ball. 

Armin stood behind Sasha, unbeknownst to her, letting Jean know he was open as he tried to get the ball away from Marco. He watched him, how sweat clung to the back of his shirt and put a thin shine over his body where his clothes didn’t cover, his hair damp from the same thing, and Armin couldn’t help but stop breathing for a moment. Jean managed to get the ball and sent it flying at him before he had time to prepare, and the next thing Armin felt was the basketball hitting him full force in the face, knocking him back onto the ground. Hard. 

“Armin!” 

He could hear someone calling his name but he couldn’t make out who. Everything hurt. He could barely breathe through his nose and he smelled blood whenever he inhaled. The back of his head was on fire, hurting so much he couldn’t lift it at all. He moaned in pain as footsteps got closer, and then Jean was there, looking terrible. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He said quickly, kneeling down next to him and looking him over. “God. Dammit, I’m sorry. Sasha, do you have anything for his nose?” 

“Not on me.” Sasha answered from his other side. “But Marco’s running home to get his first aid kit. 

Armin could hear Jean sigh beside him, and then he was touching him, trying to lift him up off the ground and back onto his feet, but it  _ hurt.  _ A lot. 

“Stop!” Armin gasped, wincing as his head was lifted. “It hurts too much.” 

Jean looked even worse when he said that, but regretfully lifted him into a sitting position and swore when he looked at the back of his head. “Fuck.” Armin heard him mutter, and his body began to sway a bit when he wasn’t fully supported by his friend. His eyes closed and he could feel himself leaning to the side. 

“Hey, no you don’t!” Jean said quickly, grabbing him and holding him up. “Sasha, can you help me get him home when Marco gets back? I’m afraid he’s got a concussion.” 

Sasha looked him over, trying to get him to look her in the eye, but everything was so bright it hurt to open them. All he wanted to do was go home and sleep. 

“Fuck, I don’t know what to do.” 

“Want me to get Mikasa?” That was Connie, coming from somewhere in front of him. 

“And what, let her kill me?!” Jean asked. 

“We don’t have to tell her it was your fault.” 

Armin wavered again, and knew if Jean wasn’t holding onto him he would have fallen. Instead, he leaned into his friend, closing his eyes and lettin the closeness comfort him a bit. He could feel Jean’s heart beating like a jackhammer in his chest, and he wanted so badly to say that it was okay, that it wasn’t his fault anyway, but he couldn’t even attempt to get his mouth to work. 

“Fine.” Jean decided, his voice a rumble as Armin rested against his chest. “Fine, get her.” 

Armin could hear footsteps disappearing, and when Jean attempted to move him again, he groaned in pain. 

“I know.” Jean murmured softly. “But I need to get you up. I’m so sorry.” 

“No…” Armin mumbled, letting himself be picked up and carried over to the picnic tables next to the hoops, and was sat down on the rough wood. 

After what felt like forever, Marco was back, panting and completely out of breath, with a huge box with him. “I-I didn’t know what you’d need so I brought everything.” 

Armin opened his eyes just enough to see what was happening, and felt Jean get up from beside him to start looking through the kit, and his head suddenly felt heavy and his neck couldn’t support it. 

“No, you don’t!” Sasha said quickly, taking Jean’s place and holding him up. “You need to hold your head up, Armin. You’re acting like a bobble head. And not a good one.” 

“Sasha!” Jean yelled, angry that she would even suggest that right now. 

“What? He kind of is.” 

“He’s  _ hurt! _ ” Jean argued, and Armin could feel him messing around his nose, which made him wince. “I’m sorry.” He said again. “I have to clean the blood, though, Armin.” 

“What happened!?” 

Armin turned his head a bit and opened his eyes again to see Mikasa charging up to them, Connie running along behind, looking dangerously angry at them. 

“He’s hur-“ 

“I can see that! What did you  _ do?!”  _ Mikasa demanded, looking furiously at Jean. 

Armin weakly shook his head, hoping Mikasa wouldn’t be too angry with Jean over something that wasn’t his fault. “No… not his fault.” Armin mumbled, slurring a little. 

Mikasa’s attention was on him, then, pushing the boys out of the way so she could focus on fixing him up, still asking what had happened. Her touch was gentle as she finished cleaning the blood off of his face, and Jean explained. 

“It - it was an accident.” He said quietly. 

Mikasa said nothing to Jean and turned back to Armin, not trusting the other boy at all. She didn’t get along great with Jean on the best of days, but right then, she could have punched him. “Are you okay?” She asked Armin, handing him some gauze to put up his nose. “Breathe through your mouth for a little while.” When that was finished, she went around to his other side and got started looking at the back of his head. 

He was bleeding. The whole back of his head was red with thick, matted hair, blood, gravel and dirt, and she knew she needed to get him home so he could shower and she could properly clean it. “I’m taking him home.” She told them all, helping Sasha get him to his feet. 

“I’m coming with you.” Jean spoke up, giving Mikasa a look that dared her to argue. “He’s my friend, too.” 

Mikasa gave him a look right back, but relented, not wanting to argue in front of Armin. “Hurry up, then.” 

Jean was there, then, taking his other side and holding him up and supporting more of his weight. Armin’s head lulled towards Jean, and felt the taller boy’s arm tighten around his waist. 

“You need to be more careful with him.” Mikasa said as they walked back, only needing to see Armin stumbling between them for a few seconds before picking him up, barely giving Jean a chance to get his other side before taking off again. “He’s not as rough as the rest of you are.” 

“You think I don’t know that?” Jean snapped, looking over at her. “But he’s not  _ fragile _ , Mikasa. He’s capable of keeping up with us all. I don’t want him hurt, either, but I have enough sense to know I don’t need to  _ hover,  _ unlike you and Jaeger.” 

“We’re only looking out for him!” Mikasa snapped back, stopping for a moment and glaring over at Jean. “He’s my family; some of the only family I have left. I want to keep him safe!” 

Hearing the two of them arguing like that over him only served to make Armin feel worse, and he tried to shake his head. “Stop. Don’t fight, please?” 

Jean softened immediately, hearing Armin say that, and bit back his retort he’d been ready to fire at the girl across from him. “We’re almost home, Armin.” He said gently. “You’re doing great.” 

They managed to get him back home and Mikasa shooed Jean back as she helped him get his head cleaned up in the bathroom. The warm water felt good on Armin’s sore head, but with every pour, it stung as it washed over his cut, and red water ran down the drain in ribbons and made him feel sick know it was coming from him. 

“What really happened?” Mikasa asked, not trusting the others when it came to Armin. She had watched other kids lie about things that happened when they were young, about how Armin got hurt, to cover their own asses, and she hadn’t forgotten the time Jean made him break his arm when they were little. 

“I wasn’t paying attention.” Armin answered, his voice soft and his eyes fixed on the drain. “Jean threw me the ball and it hit my face and I went down. It was my fault.” 

“It wasn’t your fault.” Mikasa insisted, being as gentle as she possibly could as she cleaned the grime from his hair. “It wasn’t your fault at all.” When she could move his hair around without too much issue, she gently probed around, feeling for any bumps, and frowned when she found one. It was big, and fresh blood was trickling down from a cut right in the center. There wasn’t a way she could hold Armin up, push his hair back  _ and  _ bandage it up all on her own, and with an aggravated sigh, she got up. “Stay here, okay?” 

With a little nod, Armin lay back as much as he could in the tub, feeling weird sitting there in his underwear, and listened as Mikasa spoke to Jean right outside the door. He was beyond suprised to know Jean was still there, and that he was just on the other side of the door, and in his woozy, drowsy state, wanted nothing more than to see him. 

He could hear the two talking in angry, hushed tones, and after a minute, Jean came in flanked by Mikasa, and did his best to help Armin out of the bath and sit him on the toilet so they could get his head cleaned up. “I’m sorry, Armin.” 

“I’ll hold him, and his hair back, you do the bandage.” Mikasa said, looking over at Jean, like she expected him to say no. 

“Alright.” Jean said softly, turning Armin a little so he could get better access to him, and murmured soft apologies to him every time he winced or tensed up. After a few moments, he was finished up, and laid a very gentle hand on him as he pulled back. 

Armin’s head bent towards Jean just a little, wanting to hold his hand there because it was soft and warm and he wanted to chase the feeling for as long as he could. 

“Mikasa, can you get him a towel? I’ll stay with him for a sec.” 

Mikasa left the room, leaving Armin there dripping wet in his boxers with Jean’s hand on him to steady him, and tried to cover as much of his body as he could; he didn’t want Jean seeing him like that. 

“Hey,” Jean murmured, sitting on the edge of the tub, their legs touching. “I’m really sorry. I should have paid more attention to what you were doing.” 

“It was my fault.” Armin insisted, letting his eyes slip shut. 

“How?” 

“I was just thinking.” 

“Idiot,” Jean chuckled affectionately, both of them knowing he didn’t mean it. “The most important game of our lives isn't the time to be  _ thinking.”  _

“Now you tell me.” Armin mumbled back, the tiniest bit of a smile tugging at his lips, which only got bigger when he heard Jean laugh. 

“What was so interesting that you got so caught up, huh?” 

Armin felt how his body leaned against Jean, the places where they touched and fit so perfectly together, how he was warm and solid and so incredibly  _ Jean,  _ and found himself for the briefest of seconds wanting to say that one little word that could change both of their lives one way or another:  _ You.  _

He knew he couldn’t, though. He couldn’t ruin what they were right then, not when the risk was too great. “I don’t remember.” He lied, shrugging it off and hoping that he wouldn’t press. “It probably wasn’t important though.” 

Jean snorted. “Maybe it’ll come back later.” 

Armin just closed his eyes, content to sit there for the rest of the day with Jean at his side. 

*** 

Jean and Mikasa both stayed with him until after dinner, wanting to make completely sure that he was okay. Armin had a feeling they would have stayed longer if his grandfather hadn’t shooed them away. 

He was honestly a bit sad to see them go. This had been the first time in Armin didn’t know how long that Jean and Mikasa had almost seemed to get along despite their spat that afternoon, and it was so  _ nice,  _ such a change from how things normally went with them, that he wanted to keep that for as long as he could. 

Mr. Arlert sent him up to bed shortly after, promising that he would be in to check on him later, and Armin slipped away up to his room, climbing into bed and grabbing his computer, figuring now was as good of a time as any to look into some of the documentaries that he’d been dying to watch. 

He was halfway through the first one when he heard his phone going off, and grabbed for it. It was Jean, checking on him, and reading over the words made his heart squeeze. 

_ I’m going to bed soon, I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.  _

Armin hurriedly typed out an affirmative, and sent a quick text to Mikasa letting her know the same thing. He settled in after that, and was asleep before hid grandfather came to check on him. 

*** 

The next couple days were almost complete agony. The morning after, Armin had woken up with a massive headache and a tender skull, and the thought of having to move or do anything was enough to make him want to cry. He lay in bed for a little while, trying to convince himself that he needed to get up and go to school, but the thought of having to be under the fluorescents for so long wasn't appealing in the slightest. Eventually though, he climbed out of bed and forced himself to get ready, and sent a text to Jean telling him he’d wait for him at the bus stop. 

Fifteen minutes later, Armin was outside with a light jacket pulled tight around him, cold even in the spring air. Mikasa came walking down with a half asleep Eren in tow, followed by Marco and Connie. Jean was late. 

Armin kept his eyes on the road he knew he’d be walking up, and couldn’t help but be worried the closer it got to the time the bus would be coming to pick them up. He kept checking his phone, keeping a really close eye on the time, and found himself tapping his fingers anxiously on the back of his phone. 

Finally, after another agonizing five minutes, Jean came walking up, slowly, with Sasha trailing behind him with two cereal bars in her hand. 

He could tell something was off almost immediately. 

When Jean got closer, he drew the collar of his jacket tighter around him like he was cold, but Armin knew better. Jean  _ always  _ teased him about being a walking heater, and to just hug him if he ever got cold. 

He looked up, giving Armin a half-smile, and went to stand beside him, not saying anything and just staring off into the middle distance. The bus came a few minutes later, and the group got on, Armin hurrying to take one of the benches near the back, and Jean squeezed his long legs in beside him. Armin looked over, opening his mouth to ask what was wrong, when he noticed a bruise in the shape of a ring around his neck. From where he was, he could make out the shape of a hand, and he felt sick. 

“Jean, what-“ 

“Dad wasn’t happy I got home so late last night.” He answered in a murmur, then launched into a ramble about new bands he wanted Armin to listen to later, and the subject was dropped. 

~ 

The next morning was a bit better. He didn’t have a headache waiting for him, but his neck and back felt like it was one big, solid bruise. He climbed out of bed and went to feel the back of his head, hissing in pain when he brushed over the spot where he’d hit, and felt a massive bump. 

Armin dropped his hand and went about his morning routine, his thoughts drifting to Jean and wondering what was going on. He’d gone right home after school the day before, and only really text him after the time he knew his dad would be drunk. 

Things had always been bad at their house, but it was rapidly getting worse and it terrified him. He knew as soon as he hit eighteen, Jean would be raring to go, busting out of the place he detested and setting off to take on the world half-cocked. It worried him. He was terrified of Jean taking off from one bad situation and trading it for an even worse one. 

To his surprise, Jean was already standing at the bus stop, a thin scarf wrapped around his neck, and he gave Armin a real smile when he saw him. “Morning!” He called cheerily, as if nothing bad had ever happened to him. “Did you eat anything this morning?” Jean asked, knowing Armin had a tendency to forget when he was rushing around. 

Armin ran through his morning really fast, and sighed when he realized that he’d forgotten. 

Without a word, Jean reached into his pocket and pulled out a cereal bar for him, offering him a little smile. Jean always carried a few around with him every day, just in case Armin or one of their friends forgot or really needed a boost in the middle of the day. It always touched Armin that he thought about things like that. 

“So, I have something I need to talk to you and the others about…” he said, trailing off in the way he knew would get Armin’s attention. 

Armin perked up almost immediately, looking at Jean with a curious smile. “And what’s that?” 

“Wait til the others get here.” Jean grinned. “It’s important.” 

“Okay?” 

“Trust me. It involves all of us.” 

“You’re not doing much to calm down my curiosity.” Armin pointed out, quirking his eyebrows up at him. 

“Later.” 

  
  
  
  


Luckily for Armin, “later” was lunchtime. The group filed outside to eat their lunch in the sun, and Jean called all of them to attention. “Alright,” he said, looking at them all. “Last week of school is next week, and we’re out for the summer. I’ve been thinking about it, and last night, I decided we need to do something to celebrate.” 

“And did you happen to decide what that something is?” Eren asked, not in the mood for suspense. 

“Actually, yes, Jaeger, I did. And if you’d shut up, I’d tell you all what it is…” 

  
  
  
  



End file.
